Hollow
by pharo
Summary: Buffy POV on the void in her soul.


Hollow ****

Hollow

Author: Pharo

Disclaimer: "Buffy The Vampire Slayer" belongs to Joss Whedon, Twentieth Century Fox, and Mutant Enemy. No infringement intended.

Summary: Buffy POV on the void in her soul.

Spoilers: Post – "Flooding". 

Feedback: pharo@onebox.com

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Days will come that make no sense/ My present situation makes me think too much, too much/ It all revolves around you/ This life that I'm living means nothing without you -Adema, _Skin_

I'd been feeling hollow ever since I'd come back from—from where I'd been. I can't even bring myself to say it anymore—except when I told Spike. I was—still am—so damn tired of everyone insisting that what they did was for my benefit and that I should be ecstatic about it all. I try to play along, but my face hurts from all that 'smiling'. It hurts to have to pretend with my best friends. 

They didn't do it for me. They did it because they needed the Slayer, the best friend, the Buffster back. They took _my_ sacrifice away. It's like they created a sequel to my already finished movie. Sequels suck—it's like some sort of unwritten law. 

The emptiness that I felt—it made me feel like I wasn't 'fully restored'. I guess the spell didn't work too well or else I'd feel whole, wouldn't I? Instead, there was a damaged Buffy walking around or rather drifting in this world. 

It was a painful hole in my soul. Painful because I knew that at some time in my life, it was full and after they brought me back it was gone. Painful because I should never have had that hole in the first place. Painful because I wasn't even sure what I was missing—that is until he called.

I mentally slapped myself the moment he called for not remembering to tell him. He should have heard it from me and not Willow. He'd been the center of my world for so long that it hurt without him, which I realized was the painful feeling. 

He called and he sounded—I never heard him sound like _that_ before. It was a mixture of urgency, relief, and sadness swirling around. He sounded scared and a part of me was scared _for_ him. 

I wanted so badly to tell him all that had happened. I wanted to blurt everything out to him, not caring if Giles or Dawn heard in the next room. At that moment, all that mattered was him. The whole world had been blacked out and he and I were the only ones left in color. 

"Angel," was all that I said.

"Buffy. It's you. You're—I need to see you."

"Where?" 

I don't how I kept all I wanted to say in. It was like my mouth was working on its own.

"Midway."

That was new. It had always been his place or mine, never in between. My hands were shaking so badly as I wrote down the directions, but somehow, I got it all down. 

"I'll see you in an hour."

And as I hung up, the void came back again. It felt like someone took my coat away, leaving me shivering in the cold. I had to hold on to the table for a couple of seconds before I could stop shaking. It's amazing what the right voice can do to a person. The lack of his voice made me cold all over.

I stuttered some sort of explanation to Giles—not that I needed to give them any. I know, I know—bitter, bitter. 

"Angel called. He needs to see me and I—I need to see him, too. Thanks for taking care of this."

I practically flew out the door, fleeing before Giles could say anything that could stand in the way of me meeting Angel. Right now, whatever that needed to be done would just have to take a number. 

I drove like a crazy person, yet I found him waiting for me at the place. I saw him wearing a hole in the floor pacing the length of the abandoned mansion. It reminded me of the one back home—the one that was ours. 

The moment I stepped in, he stopped pacing and automatically looked up, like he sensed I was inside. He looked straight at me and I felt so terribly aware that I looked like crap—I hadn't bothered to comb my hair or anything—but I knew he didn't care. 

"Buffy."

The way he said that one syllable made me want to just melt. God, how I'd missed him. 

"Angel."

I don't know if he came to me or I ran to him, but one way or another, I was hugging him like there'd be no tomorrow. My tears soaked the shirt he was wearing, but he didn't seem to mind—or realize, for that matter. 

"You're real," he said, touching my cheek. "You're actually here."

"That's me, in the flesh. How'd you get here so fast?" 

I had to keep it light. Five minutes into seeing him and I'd already started crying. I couldn't just start bawling again and be very un-Buffy-like.

"As soon as I heard—I called you from the car on the way here."

I didn't know that. It made me feel worse to know that he'd hurried out _the moment he heard_ and I hadn't even called him in the past three days. 

"What if I told you that I couldn't come?"

"I'd go there. I just needed to see you. The real you and not some figment of my imagination," he said. He started to pace yet again. "I saw you everywhere after I found out you were…gone. And then Willow called and…I almost didn't believe her. I wasn't sure if you wanted to even see me since she called and not—"

"Yeah. I guess I kind of forgot. Besides, what would I have said? 'Hey, how's it going? Just wanted to say that I came back from the dead.'"

He stopped pacing and looked up at me.

"You're not happy." It was more of a statement than a question.

It was time for some damage control.

"Of course, I'm happy. My friends saved me from a life of hell. I'm just getting used to being back." The tears were tugging at my eyes, yearning to be freed.

"I know when you're not happy," he said. "You don't have to lie to me."

Cover blown. Mission over. Time to unveil the truth.

"I…"

"Maybe we should sit down." He ushered me over to a couch in the center of the room and we sat down. He didn't say anything to make me start talking. He just sat there with me leaning against him and for the first time since I came back, I felt safe. I basked in the comfort of his presence for ten minutes that seemed like forever to me.

"Where should I start?" I finally asked.

"Anywhere you want."

I knew exactly where I wanted to begin.

"My best friends ruined my life. I was happy where I was. I had everything—love, peace, happiness, you. I felt free and I felt good. But my friends yanked me away from it. It's like I was on the verge of sleep and then they blew a horn right in my ear."

"Heaven?"

I nodded.

"You saved lives and that was your reward."

I nodded again.

"And now, I can't even get through a day without getting strange looks from them. They want me to be happy so badly, but I can't. How am I supposed to function properly when I find myself staring straight at spoons for minutes at a time? I think I'm broken."

He smiled at me.

"You'll never be broken to me."

"You don't count," I said, sticking my tongue out at him before leaning against him once more. 

For a moment, I forgot all about what I was telling him. I felt normal for that one moment before everything came rushing back and I realized that I'd never be normal. I was a resurrected Slayer confiding in a 240-year-old vampire.

"My old life is gone," I said.

"Do you want it back?"

"Now I do. I didn't even want to come back, but since I'm here, I want it to be the way things were before."

We sat there for a while in some more silence. He had the 'I'm-thinking' look on his face.

"Why didn't you want to come back?"

The question broke the silence that was settling in. I hadn't really expected him to ask me that, but he had. The answer popped into my head as soon as he asked.

"I was happy there because you and I were together. Over here, for the sake of the world, we _can't_ be together—no matter how much we want to or need to. Over here, I have nothing to come back to. Life without you isn't living."

"I know how you feel."

"You're the only one in the world who does."

He looked at me, I looked at him, and at that moment we knew we were treading on dangerous water. That look that passed—it led to things that could end all humanity. We both knew exactly what the consequences of that soul-wrenching look would be, yet neither of us looked away.

He started kissing me and I kissed him back because I was losing myself in the moment. It was hard not to. I felt seventeen all over again. I deserved to be happy. I wished the moment would never end, but I _had_ to pull away. That small nagging in my soul wouldn't allow me to have a small amount of happiness. 

"We can't do this," I said, out of breath. "You know what'll happen if we—"

"I don't care. I need you," he said, emphasizing each word. "Screw the world."

"I never thought I'd hear you say that," I said, grinning at him.

"I'm sorry. I just wanted to feel something besides the pain. I wanted it to go away for just a little while to feel a little happiness. And that can only happen when I'm with you."

"I know the feeling."

It wasn't long before he had to go his way and I had to go mine. We got into our cars and looked at each other one more time before driving away into the dark of the night. 

I'd die all over just to be with him again. He knew it, I knew it, and the world knew it. In the end, however, none of it mattered and we were each alone once more. The emptiness in my soul had been filled for just a little while and I cherished that small amount of time when I felt whole once more. 


End file.
